


Sherstrade: Why are you being nice to me?

by Readingfanfics



Series: Prompts [87]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to something else, M/M, caring Greg, fluffy and sweet vibe i hope, sherlock got into a fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: “Why are you being so nice to me?”Sherlock got into a fight at school and Greg takes care of his injury.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Prompts [87]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/545386
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62





	Sherstrade: Why are you being nice to me?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in September 2019 and the prompt line was "Why are you being so nice to me?" I believe the line was from SoPrompt on Tumblr. 
> 
> Also, I used this page to see how the injury gets treated. https://www.webmd.com/first-aid/cuts-or-lacerations-treatment
> 
> Enjoy.   
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Here, press this on it. It will stop the bleeding.” Greg handed Sherlock a clean handkerchief, gesturing with it when Sherlock didn’t take it right away. The skin around his left eye was already bruising and Greg winched in sympathy when Sherlock moved. 

**“Why are you being so nice to me?”** Sherlock sounded genuinely surprised as he pressed the handkerchief to his arm. Greg still didn’t know why Matt had carried a knife with him to class but Greg would make sure that it was the last time. He’d probably have to go to the principal's office soon, seeing as he’d knocked Matt out and had most likely broken the bastard’s nose. 

“I’m just going to fetch some water and soap. It’s best to clean it out.” Greg said, not answering Sherlock’s question. He went to the small bathroom of the flat he shared with John, rummaging around in the cabinets until he found everything he needed. If Greg were being honest, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was being nice to Sherlock Holmes. The bloke wasn’t exactly known for being friendly or social in general. He had a very sharp tongue, almost as sharp as his mind, and he used both of them in class on a regular basis. Greg sometimes wondered if Sherlock just liked rilling people up, getting a reaction out of them just for fun. Well, he’d certainly gotten a reaction this time. 

“This is going to sting.” Greg warned after he’d cleaned out the wound, holding up a bottle of antibiotic ointment. Sherlock flinched just a bit as Greg applied it, trying his best to be careful.

“Thank you.” Sherlock whispered, so softly Greg wasn’t sure it had actually happened until Sherlock gave him an unsure smile. The smile woke up tiny butterflies in Greg’s stomach, mumbling something along the line of ‘no problem’ as he put a sterile bandage on the area. They looked at each other for a few seconds longer, awkwardness hanging in the air and than Greg got up, cleaning up the mess. 

It was strange, having Sherlock Holmes in his flat. Sherlock’s eyes went over his living room, taking in all the books along the wall and on the desk, the couple of piles in the corner of the room, right next to his guitar. It felt like Sherlock was dissection him with every sweep of his eyes, his face hardly showing anything of what he was thinking. It was unsettling and addictive at the same time and Greg cleared his throat, Sherlock’s bright eyes snapping up to him in question. 

“Do you want some tea? You should probably put some ice on your eye, it looks nasty.” 

“Feels like it too.” Sherlock replied, wincing as he touched the sensitive skin with his fingertips. The movement made Greg realize how pale Sherlock’s fingers were, how pale he was in general. Sherlock huffed, running a hand through his hair and Greg’s fingers suddenly itched to touch. Sherlock’s hair looked soft, the curls framing his face perfectly and he’d never seen Sherlock so- so normal before. 

“I’d like some yes.” Sherlock’s voice brought Greg back to the present, looking at him with confusion. Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Tea?” 

“Ah, yeah, course.” Greg mumbled, quickly turning his back as he felt his face warm. He rummaged around the kitchen, finding a pack of ice for Sherlock’s eye. When the tea was ready he placed a cup in front of Sherlock. For a second he didn’t know what to do but then he sat down next to him, taking a sip of his cup. 

“Does that help?” Greg gestured towards the ice pack and Sherlock nodded, looking at him with one eye. “Good. Bet it’s going to turn into all the colors of the rainbow. He got you good.” 

“Yes, for such a heavy bloke, he’s quite fast.” Sherlock grumbled, taking a sip of his tea and humming in approval. 

“You did start it.” Greg glanced at Sherlock, taking another sip as he stayed silent. After a moment Sherlock sighed deeply, placing his tea back on the table and removing the pack from his eye. 

“I guess that’s fair.” Sherlock smiled, just a little and Greg couldn’t help but smile back.

“Why did you start it? You must have known Matt was going to be pissed.” 

“Matt is an arse. Being nice to you in your face and then stabbing you in the back.” Sherlock’s voice was hard as he said it, his mouth turning into a thin line. Greg looked at Sherlock, seeing the tension in his shoulders and he bit his lip. 

“Did he- do something to you?” 

“Not to me, no.” Sherlock responded, suddenly standing up from the sofa. His black eye stood out extra sharp against his pale face. Sherlock walked to the bookcase, caressing the spines of the books. He let out a huff, taking a book from the shelves. Greg got up, frowning. 

“Didn’t see you as a Harry Potter fan, Lestrade.” Sherlock smiled, holding the book up and Greg grabbed it, placing it back on the shelf. 

“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Holmes.” 

Sherlock looked at him with a mix of emotions Greg couldn’t name. Sherlock’s eyes went back to the bookcase, gently touching the bandage on his arm. At least Matt had been so angry he’d had terrible aim and had only cut Sherlock superficially. 

“Yes, I guess you are right. Why did you do it?” Sherlock asked, looking up with shining eyes. 

“Do what?” Greg asked, knowing perfectly well what Sherlock was talking about. He flexed his hands, his knuckles protesting lightly. Knocking someone out wasn’t nearly as easy as the movies made it out to be. Sherlock’s eyes went from Greg’s face to his hands, raising an eyebrow when their gazes met again. 

“He did come after you with a knife, Sherlock. What was I supposed to do?” 

“You could have just- done nothing?” Sherlock said, shrugging a shoulder when Greg glared at him. “It’s not like we are friends.” 

“We could be.” Greg bit his lip as soon as the words left him. Sherlock titled his head ever so slightly and Greg let out a sigh, running a hand over his face. He’d worked with Sherlock in group on a couple of assignments at the beginning of the year. Somehow he’d been the only one to talk some sense into Sherlock when he went on and on about minor details that only seemed important to him and stalled the whole project. Sherlock sometimes worked on his nerves during those assignments, he wasn’t going to lie, but he also knew that Sherlock meant well. He just wanted to get the best possible result and didn’t take lame arse excuses from anyone. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Lestrade.” Sherlock spoke softly, a look in his eyes that made Greg’s butterflies act up again. His face warmed and he waved a dismissive hand, trying to walk back to the sofa but Sherlock placed his hand on Greg’s arm. The butterflies in his stomach seemed to be at a rave now, frantically flying about as Sherlock squeezed his arm and gave a small smile. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s fine, Sherlock. No big deal.” Greg huffed, feeling embarrassed but Sherlock shook his head, taking a step forward. His eyes seemed to shine like diamonds in the sun as he focused his gaze on Greg. Greg swallowed, feeling glued to the floor. 

“It’s a big deal to me, Lestrade. Not many people have shown me kindness like that.” The smile on Sherlock’s mouth had a hint of sadness in it and Greg just nodded his head like a fool. What could he possibly say to that anyway? 

“I won’t forget it.” Sherlock whispered, leaning forward to place a whisper of a kiss on Greg’s warm cheek. Sherlock stepped back, scanning Greg’s face carefully before removing his hand of Greg’s arm and speaking again. “Time to go home. I’m sure my brother will have heard all about it by now.” 

“He can’t possibly know everything. It just happened!” Greg called out, taking Sherlock’s coat off the rack and helping him into it. 

“Then you don’t know my brother very well.” There was a hint of irritation in Sherlock’s words as he buttoned up his coat and finished the last of his tea. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Maybe we can have lunch? If you haven’t been expelled by then.”

Greg’s stomach pulled tight at the thought and Sherlock shook his head quickly. “No, no. I was just teasing. We were seen by a bunch of people. I’m sure you’re already being hailed as the hero of campus. Maybe you’re even a YouTube hit by now.” 

“Oh, god. No.” Greg said in terror, wanting to shove Sherlock when he saw the smirk on his face. 

“It will be fine, Lestrade. I’ll make sure of it.” Sherlock’s expression was so serious Greg actually believed it, letting out a sigh of relief. Sherlock walked towards the door and Greg opened it for him, a bit sad to see him go already. 

“Take care of yourself, Sherlock. Don’t start anymore fights today.” 

“I’ll promise to do my best. Have a good night, Lestrade. See you tomorrow?” The shyness in Sherlock's eyes nearly melted Greg’s heart, his throat all of a sudden feeling dry. 

“Of course. See you tomorrow. And you can call me Greg, you know?” 

Sherlock turned, an amused expression on his face as he answered. 

“I'll try my best to remember that,  _ Greg _ .” 

One last nod and then Sherlock was gone. Greg closed the door in a daze, his thoughts seeming to go everywhere as he leaned against the door. What a crazy day it had been! 

The end. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story and you have some time, please leave me a kudos and/or comment. I read and reply to every single one. Thank you. :D
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr if you want to talk.


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